Collateral Damage
by Ladyfun
Summary: Welcome to Sandbox I, or as the Muggles say, Gulf War I! As Grizzled First Sargent Moody and his platoon sergeants, Bellatrix Black and Fleur Delacour, attempt to get their new recruits through the battlefield in one piece, a rebellion is mounting from the trio of Granger, Weasley, and Potter, determined to prove the cause of disaster looming was from their own HQ, not the enemy.


**Author: Ladyfun**

**Pairing:** None, really. Sucks, I know.

**Rating**: Generally T

**Disclaimers:** All of this (Ladyfun gesturing big wide circles over the computer with her hand) belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing, and this is all for non-profit fun.

**SUMMARY**: For the QLFC. Welcome to Sandbox I, also known by the Muggles as Gulf War I. As Grizzled First Sargent Moody and his rebellious platoon sergeants, Bellatrix Black and Fleur Delacour, attempt to get their new recruits through the battlefield in one piece, a rebellion is growing in the form of PVT Granger, Weasley, and Potter. They never expected the cause of the majority of casualities- the largest disaster the Wizarding World had seen in the modern battlefield era- would be their own Ministry HQ, and not their enemy.

**A/N: **Written for Round 3 /Season 2 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Beater 2 for the Wigtown Wanderers. Prompt: A human-caused Disaster. Optional prompts used: 1.(dialogue) "Choose it or lose it" 2. (word) hardened 3. (word) biting

**A/N #2:** This is, IMHO, and based on my own real world experience – and might be a little different than the traditional human-caused disasters than you expect. Some names changed to protect the innocent.

* * *

Round 3: Some Real World History.

**Title/Link: Collateral Damage**

Team: Wigtown Wanderers

Position: BEATER 2/Prompt Man Made Disaster

* * *

First Sargent Moody looked around with his one good eye, tired. Frankly, he was just _getting too old for this shit. _He sighed, drinking his boiled coffee from his thermos, and keeping an eye on the horizon. He was hardened in the way only experience could to to a person: Vietnam as a young man, and now, as an old man, he was on his second deployment in the Gulf. His joints hurt, his back hurt, hell…his soul hurt.

He had three platoons in his stead, as an integral Battalion of the elite rapid deployment force of the 113st Airborne Division (Apparate & Assault). Two of his platoons were overseen, surprisingly, by witches; surprisingly because the T.O.E. called for men..._wizards_...to fill the slot. This was wartime; no one gave a shit if a soldier had tits. They only cared if they were proficient at their jobs, and could use a wand to do more than conduct a marching band.

Thus his two most reliable sergeants were indeed females...exemplary ones, at that; _they had to be_, to survive in a predominately male combat unit.

Alpha Platoon was run by Bellatrix Black. SSG Black came from a long line of military officers who had served in every major wizarding conflict since Dumbledore was a baby. She, along with her brothers, all entered the Wizard Military Academy. Despite her academic excellence, she was promptly was kicked out. Thumbing her nose to the establishment, she enlisted, instead. This was her second tour; She had already been awarded Bronze Star with Valor in her first tour. No question, she had great survival instincts, she was tough, and she was_ mean._ She got results. Units simply functioned better with her in them, and her obvious talents gave her enough gravitas for commanding officers to_ look the other way_ in regards to her "female dalliances"…the thing that got her kicked out of the Academy in the first place.

His other platoon sergeant, SGT Fleur Delacour, who ran Charlie Platoon, was the polar opposite of Black. She came from a wealthy family, and out of some patriotic notion, signed up for what she viewed as a "noble" cause. She had a devoted husband, SFC William Weasley, who was in the Black Ops division. They were celebrities, of sorts; Weasley came from a well known Army family, and the Brass of the Army looooovvved the pretty witch, Delacour! Every photo-op,it seemed, she was paraded out for the press. She was featured on multiple Army recruiting posters, because, hell…_there weren't many soldiers_ that were as good looking as Delacour, male or female! But she was no creampuff; she would beat your ass i_n a second _if you fell out of line. He actually thought she might be worse than Black, on most days.

And poor Platoon Bravo- it rotated through multiple leaders; it was like his old Defense Against the Dark Arts class back in high school! They couldn't seem to keep a leader in charge for long. One Bravo platoon sergeant was killed, early on, in the war...he forgot to check his tailpipe for a bomb before he started his HUMVEE 998; quite a rookie mistake, in the first sargent's opinion._ Ol' SGT Longbottom_…may he rest in peace. Another Bravo rotator went _bat-shit crazy_…"battlefield fatigue", they called it; they gave SGT Lockheart a medical discharge a mere 15 days after being in country. _Bastard was already pretty loony, before he even got to Iraq_, if you asked Moody.

But then again_, no one asked Moody._ Had they asked, they wouldn't be in this fucking sandbox full of shit for no understandable reason.

Reflecting on the travails of Platoon Bravo, he looked up. He wondered if this new kid, SSG Snape, would make it. Jury was out. The girls hated him. Moody chuckled…you definitely had to earn those two witches' respect._ No free lunch, here._

He took off his Gortex, as the sun was starting to come up. Freezing at night, blistering hot in the day. Gotta love the sandbox...Rolling his poncho up, he saw his two star platoon sergeants heading in his direction, up for hours already, by the look of 'em. Wearing their Kevelar and Flack Jackets, wands hoisted, the first sergeant knew this wasn't going to be good news.

"Morning, First Sergeant." They greeted.

"Sargent Black, Sargent Delacour." He nodded. His eye rolled around behind them, pulling sentry. "To what do I owe this early morning honor? We don't have P.T. this am, and we're not due in the motor pool until oh-nine-hundred."

The two sergeants looked at each other, uncomfortably.

_Oh, shit._ He thought. _This **really** ain't gonna be good._

"We have a little…problem." SGT Black said, her tone _biting._

"Bella." He chuckled. "What we have is **not** a _problem._ What we have, actually, is an opportunity to excel…so, what is it?"

Bella looked at her colleuge. "Yo...You want to tell the 1st sergeant, Veela?"

"Not really." The Veela grimaced. "So, ze new 'cruits. Ze ones your "buddy" spoke so highly of?"

_"Yessss_?" Moody said, waiting. The "buddy" they referred to was Albus Dumbledore himself, the commandant of the 18B traning camp; he hand picked the best of the best to populate Moody's rolls. He promised Moody that this trio of newbies…PVT Potter, PVT Weasley, and PFC Granger…were _all that and a box of crackers_. The trio had beat the longstanding school recondo record held for 40 years by none other than Moody himself.

"The Golden Trio?" Moody asked, nonchalant.

"The Golden Pains-In-The-Asses!" Spat Bellatrix.

He gave them a hard look. "What's the problem?"

"Zey refuse to take ze PB tabs, 1st sargent!" SGT Delacour complained. "Ze girl, zat 'ermione Granger…BAH! Said she did all zis 'research.' Said it is an organophosphate, or somezing crazy. She's causing dissention in ze ranks!"

"And Potter and Weasley are backing her up." Bella groused.

The PB tabs they referred to were the little white tablets they were ordered to take, everyday. Known to those who had medical knowledge as Pyridostigmine Bromide, the soldiers were ordered by HQ to take one every day to "pre-treat" them in case of attack by nerve agents. HQ insisted that a simple _"Protego_" spell would not protect them; and so, they soldiers defending the sandbox dutifully took the little white pills, every day, in the dangerous combat zones. True, no one really liked taking them; they did make you pretty damn queasy. But dying from Saran, pissing yourself and shitting yourself in the process, was a whole lot worse. Plus, orders were orders.

That is, until the Golden Trio came on board. As fate would have it, the innocuous looking privates were pretty damn persuasive. The female, Granger, would knock you out with facts; crap like "synergistic effects with DEET and Permethrin," and improper storage of the PB tabs in the heat; Weasley would charm those on the fence, with gabby comments like "Hey, I don't want blotchy skin when I'm pickin' up a bird, on leave, 'mate! I have a tough enough time with this face of mine!" And Potter? He was just so fucking earnest, people just believed him. It was eerie.

The sergeants were loosing their touch; unable to get the soldiers to take the PB tabs. It finally came to a head, one hot summer day in the desert. The first sergeant told his right and left hand men (women) that he couldn't have this insubordination any longer.

True, they were exemplary soldiers in all other ways; but the Golden Trio didn't get to pick and chose which orders they followed. So, in front of formation, Bella and Fleur were forced to stuff the white tablets down their throat, making an example of them. They choked and spat, but the witches got them down their throats.

Bella held up the white tablet. "Soldiers! Take your PB tabs! HQ orders…_choose it, or lose it_, troops!" Setting the example, she took hers, glaring at the trio.

Fleur added, "Zis ain't Burger King…you cannot have it your way!"

The two platoon sergeants walked the rank and file, watching to ensure that everyone did as they were ordered. Because in an elite fighting unit, that's what you do...you _follow orders._ Question orders, however, and someone could die. Once sure everyone had complied, the formation was released. The two NCOs walked silently with the First Sargent, glumly as they headed to Mess. Snape was M.I.A. as usual.

SGT Delacour was the first to speak. _"Not our finest hour,_ Top."

"No, indeed." He chuckled. "But you got your point across, Sargent."

She shook her head. "I can't help but to zink…maybe Granger is right. Maybe there is a problem with zees tablets…"

"Holy hell, Delawhore!" Bella roared. "Not you, too!"

Fleur flashed a fiery look at her. "Tell me you don't notice, Bella! Your stomach, it's not right, and it haszn't been, since we jumped to the new LZ!"

Bella sneered. "That's just a product of eating nothing but these damned MRE's for 180 days straight, Fleur!"

Fleur shook her head. "You can tell yourself zat…I can't deny ze headaches. Zey are getting worse, for me…"

The first sergeant, understanding her situation as a Veela, separated from her mate, suggested that perhaps it was her heritage, and not the PB tabs, causing the headaches. His suggestion was met with stony silence by the women. Fleur and Bella exchanged nervous looks. After a pregnant pause, Fleur finally spoke. "I, um….I don't zink it is zat, exactly, Top."

"No?" He raised his eyebrows, curious.

"Mais, non. You see, Bill is my 'usband, it is true; but he is not …how you say…._my mate_."

An even more uncomfortable look was shared between the sergeants.

"Okay, I'm….not going there, Fleur." He said. "I don't want to know."

She nodded.

They walked in silence, the three of them. Fleur said again, "First sergeant…I can't stop thinking…you know, _your joints_. You notice how zey ache, oui?"

He chuckled. "That's just 'cause I'm ancient, Delacour! _It ain't from a white pill."_

She didn't look convinced, but she let it drop, despite her worry. And a_ worried Fleur_ meant a _worried Bellatrix_.

So worried, in fact, was SSG Black, that she marched into the Golden trio's KP tiny tent that very evening. Casting her imposing figure in the door frame of their tiny tent, she glare inward, staring into the entrance of the tent the three had established as theirs. Swooping in, she glared at them with fiery eyes.

The three popped off their cots, hiding papers and other objects that Granger had stowed in an incredibly ugly beaded bag that was definitely _non-regulation._ Bellatrix privately grinned when she saw them so flustered. She kinda loved the intimidation part of her job…

_"At ease that shit,_ Private!" She ordered. "Relax, I'm not here for demerits. This ain't training camp." Looking around the small tent, she glared at PFC Granger, finally. Leveling her gaze, she directed a statement towards the brunette private. Bella said, "_Five minutes!_ You have **five minutes, **to convince me, Granger. If you fail, you're taking that pill even if I have to stuff it up your fourth point of contact, every day!"

Ron winced. The fourth point of contact in Airborne lingo, Ron knew, referred to one's _ass. However..._PFC Granger looked far from flustered, or intimidated. Instead, she said a cheery, "Perfect! I can think of no better person to convince you….than **_you."_**

Hermione pulled out of the beaded bag an object that looked like a bowl.

"Is that a pensive?" Bellatrix asked, incredulously. "Who brings a pensive to the battlefield?"

"Hermione." Harry and Ron answered, in unison.

"Time's wasting." Hermione said, matter of factly. "SSG. Black, if you would?" She motioned her to the cauldron, the portable pensive.

Bella stuck her head into the mist, waiting to see what Granger had allegedly brought, for her to witness...

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**

The first thing she was was...herself. Bella saw a version of herself, anyway; a haggard, hunched over woman, who looked a hundred years older, walked slowly, using a cane.

A god-damn cane!

Worse, when the figure turned around, it was indeed her. Older, tired, and broken...but it was her. The once fierce Bellatrix Black, who had been the Army 10 miler champion, two years in a row...was now the broken woman who could barely walk up a flight of stairs.

She watched, as the woman caught her breath, winded.

"Honey? Iz zat you?" A familiar voice called. Out walked the still beautiful Fleur Delacour, on to the porch. She wore a matching ring to Bella's, and she had a beautiful smile. However, the observant Bellatrix frowned.

_Fleur was wearing a wig._

"Why is she wearing a wig?" Bella hissed, asking PFC Granger.

_"She lost all her hair,_ soon after you redeployed."

Bella gasped.

She continued to watch the mockery of her vibrant self, as she moved slowly outside, tending to the animals. There were cats, and dogs, and even _fucking chickens._ Bella hobbled around, feeding all of the various creatures.

"That's a lot of fucking mouths to feed. What's with the animals? I hate animals!" Bella grumbled.

"It's a substitute."

"Substitute? For what?" Bella said, a sinking feeling in her gut.

"A substitute for the children _you couldn't have_." Hermione looked at the platoon sergeant with gentle eyes. "When you came back home, you discovered that you were both…_infertile_."

**XOXOXOXOXOX**

Bellatrix had felt the rage boiling up in her stomach. She had yanked her head from the pensive's silvery cloud, and grabbed Hermione by her lapels.

**"Who** are you?" She said, shaking the young witch. "_Where did you get this shit?"_

Hermione spoke calmly. "I got it, from you…. Bella. You gave it to me, _right before you died._ You asked me to find a way to change the past…so I kept my promise."

"What the-?" Bella said, in disbelief.

As though to answer, Harry held up a golden lamp box. Bellatrix gasped, recognizing the rare object. "A time turner!" She said, in awe.

The trio nodded, in unison.

Hermione spoke calmly. "You don't have long, Bella. It's turning into the summer months. The heat will degrade the tablets further, making them even more toxic. You will use tons of bug spray. And the sweat, opening your pores, will allow the mix of chemicals to seep in and destroy your neurons, and absorb through your skin."

"But these…these were supposed to protect us!"

Harry shook his head, sadly. "They were never tested before they were used in human soldiers, under these conditions, Sargent Black. ** You** are the experiment, I'm afraid."

Bella looked around, horrified.

Ron added, "well, you and about 1,600 other soldiers in the 18th Airborne Apparition Corps, that is."

"Are we** all** sick, afterwards?"

The three looked at each other. Ron piped up. "We can't say, exactly. Not allowed. The Ministry deemed it...oh what did they call it..."

"...Collateral damage." Hermione said, grimly. "_A failed experiment_." Hermione then frowned, looking at her watch. "Bloody Hell! It's time, guys!" She looked earnestly at Bella. "We have to go now…AWOL, I guess."

She gave the startled sergeant a hug, which she returned, stiffly. "We know that you're not supposed to meddle with the past, as it can have ripples in the future…but we owed it to you, Bella."

"Me? Why me?"

Harry said grimly, "You saved our lives, in the future. We vowed to pay you back, Bella. You sacrificed a lot, for us. So this is it…our payback. Do with it what you will, Agent Black."

Bella raised her eyebrows, and watched as the trio began to disappear, right before her very eyes as the time turner glowed a brilliant silver and red.

Faintly, Hermione called out, "Oh…and one more thing...when Agent Delacour says she doesn't want you to do anything special for your 15th anniversary…she's actually lying, FYI!"

Then, they were gone, as though they were never there.

Bellatrix Black looked around the empty GP tiny tent, digesting all she had learned, feeling the oppressive heat already kicking in for the day.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Against the backdrop of night, the stealthy figure, camo'ed and almost unnoticeable save for the moonlight, crawled to the supply depot, unnoticed, until an alert sentry caught sight of the movement.

"Who goes there?" Called the sentry.

"Oh...hey! Dude...It's Sargent Black! I've got orders, here, to inspect the counts."

"I didn't get any orders, Black!"

"Oh?" She said, indifferently. "Here, let me show you…." As he bent down to look at her special orders, he barely noticed the flash of light and the "_Obliviate_" that passed her lips.

Soon, Bella was in the DMSO milvan, standing on top of the stockpile of little white pills. The pills that would poison her future, and apparently so many others….

Determined, she pointed her wand, reminding herself she had taken an oath to protect her country from all enemies, foreign and domestic; in this case, the enemy turned out to be domestic...very domestic! The resultant cover ups, fall outs, and ruined lives that would result, would be one of the most shameful man-made disasters _never talked about..._in military history_. _

Resolved to defend her country, Bella would issue a grim command that moonlit night:

_"INCINDIO!"_

And as a spark ricocheted off the piles, setting the white poison aflame, Bella hoped that it would be enough. Enough to bring her future back.

_All_ of their futures...

**FIN.**


End file.
